Psycho
by Nadahnefu
Summary: Sam leaps into the life of Jack North, whose girlfriend, according to history, murders him in two days. Complete.
1. Prologue

The physical disorientation from the leap faded quickly, but the mental disorientation would take some time to get over, and God only knew how long that would take. Sam found himself sitting in a restaurant at a table set for two, but he was sitting alone. There was a candle on the table and elevator music playing in the background and the lights were low, but the waitress standing next to him was wearing a uniform, and the table was a booth with benches rather than chairs, so the place was a notch above a pizza joint but not a five-star place. He looked down at himself and discovered that he was wearing a polyester suit. There was no telling the when of where he had leapt.

"Everything's all set, Mr. North," said the waitress.

"Uh...it is?" Sam asked. The waitress had a name tag that said 'Lucy.' If only _all_ the people Sam encountered in his leaps had name tags.

"Yes, sir. Now don't you worry. You just give the signal when you're ready, and I'll take care of the rest."

"Uh, thanks. Lucy."

The waitress left. Sam was left wondering what that exchange had been about. He also wondered who he was, when he was, what he looked like, and what he was here to do, in that order. As for who, he knew from Lucy the waitress that his last name was 'North' and that he was a man, but he didn't have a clue what his first name was. He started to reach for the wallet he hoped was in his back pocket, but just then, a heavyset woman approached and waved at him. He gave a tentative return wave, and the woman slid onto the bench opposite him. She was in her mid-thirties, maybe, with long brown hair pinned into a tight bun. She wore a plain, loose-fitting dress intended to hide her bulk, which made Sam suspect that she had some self-esteem issues that might or might not be connected with the weight problem.

"Hi, Jack," said the woman. "Sorry I'm late."

"Uh...that's okay," Sam said, wondering once again how he was going to fake his way through another awkward first encounter when he had no idea who he was talking to or what his relationship was with her.

The woman smiled. "I guess I better not say that on a plane to Cuba, huh?"

"Say what?" Sam wondered.

"'Hi, Jack.'"

Sam gave a little laugh, going along with the weak joke. "No, I guess you better not."

"You wouldn't believe what happened today," the woman said. "Can you believe that someone actually returned a book they borrowed twenty-three years ago?"

T-twenty-three years? That's a long time," Sam said.

"You should've seen the fine he accumulated."

"The fine?" Sam asked. "Uh, how much was it?" So the woman was probably a librarian. Who was she to the person he'd leapt into? His wife? Mother? Sister? Date? Cousin? Employee?

"Well...actually I didn't figure it out. I told him that the statute of limitations had expired and he was off the hook. But if you like, we can figure out later how much it was, just to see."

So she definitely was a librarian. Whoever she was. "Oh...oh, sure." She was looking at him like it was his turn in the conversation, but he was clueless as to what to say. On the other hand, they were here in the restaurant, and had most likely come here to eat. "Uh...are you hungry?"

"Starving. "

"Well...let's get something to eat, then."

Sam gave a little wave to the waitress, who smiled back at him and picked up a tray she had set nearby and started heading over to them. There was a covered dish on it. That was a little weird. Maybe the guy he leapt into was a control freak.

Or maybe he knew this woman so well that he knew what she would want so he ordered it for her. God, he hoped that wasn't the case. He'd be in big trouble if it were, unless he always ordered the same thing for her every time. But then, why would he only order _her_ meal but not his own? This didn't make any sense.

"Oh, did you order already?" the woman asked.

So apparently it _wasn't_ the usual thing for Jack North to order for her. That was a relief. "Uh, yeah, I guess I took the liberty of---"

The waitress came up and set the covered dish in front of the woman. "Good evening, Miss Woods. I hope you enjoy our special this evening." She turned to Sam with a grin and a wink, then lifted the cover off the woman's dish. There was no food on the plate underneath. What there was, was an open jewelry box with a diamond engagement ring on the center of the plate.

The woman gasped as she saw it, which was a good thing, because it covered up Sam's own gasp of surprise. An _engagement_ ring? Well, that answered the question of what his relationship with the woman was supposed to be, but who the Hell _was_ she?

"Oh, Jack..." the woman said. She started to cry.

Sam knew that something was about to go wrong. Something was about to go _very_ wrong. It always did. He wouldn't have leapt into Jack North if everything was right.

"Oh, boy..." Sam said.


	2. Chapter 1

"Oh, Jack..." the woman said again. She covered her mouth with her hands.

Until Sam found out why he was there, he was supposed to do whatever the person he'd leapt into would do---within reason, of course. Well, it was obvious what Jack North would do next, so Sam did it. And maybe the guy he'd leapt into had chickened out, and that was why he was here. So all he had to do was propose, and then maybe he'd leap again. Short, easy leap. It would have come out better if he knew the name of his intended, so for the time being, he was just going to have to call her 'Uh.' "Uh, will you marry me?"

The waitress was hanging around waiting to see the rest of what will happen. The woman glanced at her, which drew Sam's attention to her. "Uh, excuse me, Lucy, would you mind..."

"Oh, sorry. Sure. No problem."

The waitress left, and Sam turned his attention back to the woman across from him. "Will you? Marry me?"

"Oh, Jack..." the woman said for the third time. Her eyes went from the ring to Sam. It was a pretty ring, Sam thought. Nice sized stone, expensive setting. Maybe a little too expensive for Jack North, but Sam had no way of knowing that.

"Well...say yes and put it on," Sam said.

The woman smiled at Sam and reached for the box. _Time to leap_, Sam thought, but then it happened.

The wrong thing, the reason why he'd come here.

She started to take the ring out of the case, but as soon as her fingers pinched it, her expression changed. It was as if she'd touched something horrible. She dropped the ring, and it clattered to the plate. "No..."

Sam was sure she'd been about to say 'Yes,' but she said 'No.'

"No!" she said again, louder. And again, even louder, "_No!_" She quickly slid out of the booth and headed for the door.

Sam tried to follow, but several restaurant patrons were just arriving, and another couple was just leaving. And then he heard the familiar _whoosh_! of the imaging chamber door opening, and Al's voice from behind him started speaking. "Hi, Sam. For once, the guy in the waiting room is cooperating, but his brain is Swiss-cheesed. It'll be another couple minutes before Ziggy figures out why---"

Sam didn't have time to hear about Ziggy. "Al! Get a fix on that girl!"

"Oh, Sam..."

Sam recognized the leer in Al's voice and swung his head to see him ogling the beautiful young woman who was being escorted by a well-dressed young man. "Not that one, _that_ one!" Sam pointed to the woman who'd sat opposite Sam at the table.

This time it was disappointment Sam heard in Al's voice. "Oh, Sam..."

Sam was losing patience. "Al!"

"All right, all right. Got it."

He disappeared with a _bleep!_ Sam headed for the door, but Lucy the waitress, who had been watching Sam propose, was now at the table. She yelled after him. "Mr. North!"

Sam turned to look at her as she picked up the ring and shoved it in the box and tossed it to him. "Good luck!"

"Thanks!" Sam yelled back, and dashed outside. "Uh, cancel my reservation, will you?"

By this time, another waitress had joined the first. "_Reservation_?" she said, shaking her head. "Boy, he's really out of it."

"He's got a lot on his mind right now," Lucy replied.

"It doesn't look like she said 'yes,'" the other waitress noted.

Lucy looked at her out of the corner of her eye, then picked up the coffee pot she'd set down. "Hell, _every_ woman likes to be chased."

Outside on the street, Sam saw no sign of the woman. He could do nothing except wait for Al, so he took note of the style of the cars and guessed that he'd leapt somewhere in the early seventies. The bank two doors down had a sign that said 'Lakewood Bank,' so at least he knew that he was in Lakewood, wherever that was. Then, with a _bleep!_ Al popped in again, this time right in front of him.

"Where'd she go?" Sam wanted to know.

"Last house on the left there, across the street," Al replied.

"Thanks," Sam said, and started heading toward the indicated house. It was a modest two-story, old enough to need siding but not quite old enough to be considered 'quaint,' in between two other houses in similar condition.

"Don't you want to know why you're here first?" Al asked. It had once been disconcerting to Sam that Al could keep pace with him without moving his feet, but by now he was used to it.

Sam grinned. "For once, Al, I'm way ahead of you. I already know why I'm here."

"You do?" Al seemed surprised.

"I'm here to get that girl to marry me---I mean, the guy I leaped into."

"You are?"

"I think. Any idea who she is?"

"Uh, no, we're still working on who _you_ are. Oh, wait a minute, here it is. You're John H. North, a forty-two year old accountant. You've got a brother named Frank who sells second-hand jewelry, and three sisters, all of whom are married, and---"

"And why am I here?"

"I thought you already knew."

"I'd like a second opinion."

"Well, Ziggy's still working on it. Oh, this is interesting. You pulled your brother Frank out of the lake two years ago when you and he were fishing, and a storm suddenly came up, and the canoe overturned. Made the front page news in the local paper."

"Never mind that, what's the date?"

"April 17th, 1972. Here, this house. You sure you want to do this? Without knowing for sure why you're here?"

"The sooner I fix things, the sooner I can leap. Besides, I just want to ask her why she thinks she can't marry me---I mean, him."

Sam knocked at the door. There was no answer.

Al checked the hand-link. "Oh, apparently the guy in the waiting room, he says his girlfriend's name is Holly Woods."

_Holly Woods?_ "You're kidding."

"No, I'm not."

Sam knocked again. "Holly, open up! We have to talk!"

There was still no answer.

"You sure she's in there?" Sam asked Al.

Al poked his head through the door and immediately poked it back out. "She's right by the door, Sam."

Sam pounded the door. "Holly, I know you're in there! All I want to do is talk, okay?"

Nothing happened. Sam continued pounding until finally, there was the sound of a deadbolt sliding. The door cracked open, and the woman peered out at him. Her eyes were red, and her cheeks were still damp from where she'd wiped away tears. She met his eyes, then looked away, and moved away from the door.

Sam opened the door and entered the house. It was filled to the point of clutter with all kinds of stuff, mostly antiques of different eras, stuff that clashed with each other and didn't seem to have any rhyme or reason for how it all fit together. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror---approaching middle age, balding, a little pudgy, with glasses. Not a Chippendale dancer by any stretch of the imagination, but Jack North looked like a nice guy.

Sam had to force himself to look away. It was very easy to get distracted from the business at hand whenever he looked in a mirror, but if he was lucky, he'd be out of here quickly, and if he wasn't, there would either be time enough to look later. Fortunately, she'd turned away from him, so she didn't see his obsession with his reflection.

"Hi." Sam said. "I mean, hi, Holly."

"I---I'm sorry, Jack. I didn't mean to embarrass you back there."

"I'm not worried about the restaurant."

"I mean, I had no idea you felt that way about me. I should never have let this go as far as I did."

"You had...no idea how I felt about you...?" Sam felt like an idiot, giving her words back to her, but it was the best he could do without knowing more.

"Well, maybe I did, but I just wasn't...I mean, I thought it was over."

"Over? You mean, us?"

"No," she shook her head. "I mean _me_. I thought it was over with _me_. But then I realized it wasn't, and I...I can't marry you, Jack."

"Why not? You don't...is it that you don't love me?"

She turned to face him, then. "No, not that. I love you with all my heart. But...I can't marry you."

"Why not? You're not, like, already married to somebody else, are you?" God, Sam hoped not. He hated messy divorces. Messy divorces and jealous ex-husbands were near the top of the list of things he hated. Just under getting shot at and run over and...

"Because it wouldn't be right."

"Why wouldn't it be right?"

"Because...because I sort of have this problem, and---"

Al's hand-linked beeped for attention. "Uh-oh, Sam. We got problems."

"What sort of problem?" Sam asked, both to Holly and to Al.

Holly said, "Well, it's...I want you to know that it has nothing to do with you or the way I feel about you..."

Al said, "Ziggy says you're not here to marry anyone."

Holly went on, "I mean, I love you, Jack. I have since the first time I met you. And I know that sounds hard to believe, but it's true..."

So did Al. "Ziggy says that two days from now, on April the 19th---"

In his years of leaping, Sam had gotten used to processing two conversations at once.

"And if I could marry someone---anyone, it would be you---"

"You're found murdered in your bathroom, in the shower."

"But, see, I have this problem, and..."

"...and the woman who killed you was a psychopath named Holly Evans."

Correction, he could _listen_ to two conversations at once, but not reply to them simultaneously. He turned to Al in confusion. "Holly Evans?"

Holly, of course, hadn't heard Al. Her tone was one of shock. "What? Oh, my God. You _know_?"

She turned to face him, and the movement brought Sam's attention back to the reality he was in rather than to the hologram almost thirty years in the future. "Your name is Holly Evans?" Sam asked.

Al eyed Holly Woods or Holly Evans or whoever she was with growing concern. "Sam---Sam, I think you better get out of here."

Holly's attitude changed suddenly, from anxiety to joy. "Oh, Jack, you knew, and you still asked me to---Oh, Jack!"

She started closing in on him.

Al was frantic. "Sam! I think you better leave, Sam!"

Sam backed away, putting a piece of furniture between him and Holly.

"Your name is Holly Woods now." Sam said, eyeing her.

"I changed it when I moved here. I like movies, so...I thought, why not?"

Al waved his arm toward the door. "Get the Hell out of here, Sam!"

Holly laughed. "Oh, Jack! All this time I was afraid of what you would think of me if you knew!"

Sam backpeddled. "Uh, uh, Holly?"

"Yes, Jack?"

Sam crossed his legs in a move he called the pee-pee dance, something that had saved his butt a number of times in previous leaps. "I have to, uh---uh..."

"You know where it is, Silly."

He didn't, actually, but he looked at his hologram companion significantly. Al popped out to look for the bathroom. "Uh, yes, I do. I do. I'll be back in a minute."

"Upstairs, Sam!" Al called from the top of the stairs.

There were three doors at the top of the stairs. They all looked alike. Under his breath, he asked, "Where is it, Al?"

"This way," Al waved.

Sam opened the door and found himself looking at Holly's bedroom. The bed was an old four-poster, neatly made with an old-fashioned quilt. There were lots of paintings in the room, a couple of them on easels. Obviously, Holly liked to do artwork in her spare time. Sam closed the door again quickly.

"Are you feeling all right, Jack?"

"Uh, fine. Just fine," Sam told her. "I've just had a lot on my mind today, you know?" Under his breath, he muttered, "the _bath_room, Al!"

"There's no _window_ in the bathroom!" Al said. "You gotta get _out_ of here!"

"Just tell me where it is!" Sam muttered.

Al sighed. "Last door."

To Holly, Sam went on. "I just, uh...just have to...you know..." He opened the door and slipped inside and shut it again. He leaned against it with a sigh. Al, who'd been on the other side of the door when he'd closed it, walked through the door and Sam and stood in the center of the bathtub.

"Lock the door!" Al suggested.

Sam locked the door. "You said I don't get killed for two days, and it's in my own bathroom, not hers. Did I do something to change that?"

Al checked the handlink. "No, no. It still happens in two days. But right now you're trapped in a bathroom with a psychopath on the other side of the door!"

"Are you sure she's a psychopath?"

"Of course I'm sure!" Al yelled. "She's been in and out of mental institutions since she was six years old. Sam, what she does to you in two days makes Norman Bates look like­­­–––" Al looked around and saw that he was standing in the bathtub. "Oh, my God. The shower!"

Sam sometimes didn't know if Al was really scared for his sake, or if it was all just a put-on. This was one of those times. "You said two days?"

"Yeah, April 19th," Al replied.

"But not tonight."

"No, not tonight. I already told you–––"

"Even with what I've already changed so far?"

Al re-checked his hand-link. "Uh, no. April the 19th."

"Which means my being here now doesn't change that."

"No, not yet."

Sam nodded. "All right, I want you to keep a real close eye on the hand-link and let me know if Ziggy projects a change on the April 19th date."

"What are you thinking, Sam?"

"She doesn't strike me as being a psychopath, Al."

Outside the bathroom, Holly slowly approached the door. She heard Sam talking to himself. "I don't think she's a psychopath...No, I don't know for sure. It's just...there's something about her."

Inside the bathroom, the hologram she couldn't hear said, "She was found at the scene, holding the knife that killed you." He held the hand-link out to show him. "Look!"

"Maybe there was a mistake," Sam insisted.

"Well, if she doesn't kill you, who does?" Al asked. "And why would she be standing over you with a knife? Huh?"

"I don't know, Al. Just---just keep an eye on Ziggy and let me know if that date changes." Sam opened the door and saw that Holly has been listening.

She backed away from him and gave a sad laugh. "I guess I don't blame you for having second thoughts. It would be sort of nerve-wracking having a wife who was mentally unstable."

Al waved his arm at her. Sam was glad he couldn't smell the stench of Al's cigar. "See? She even admits she's a psycho!"

Holly went on. "Doctor Leach thought it was all just an over-active imagination. He said I was cured. But God knows whether I really am or not. And---and who knows whether it would be passed on to any kids. They never did find out what caused it."

Sam took a few steps forward. She had cleared the way to the stairs for him, but he wasn't heading for the stairs. "Holly–––"

Al was incredulous. "Sam!"

Holly shook her head. "Maybe you better go, Jack."

"Sounds like good advice to me," Al said.

"I'll be all right," Holly went on. "It's just...been a long day. For both of us."

Al gave a concurring nod. "For all three of us. Sam, let's get the Hell out of here. This lady is nuts."

Sam continued to close the distance and raised his hands towards her shoulders. "Holly­­­–––"

As he touched her, she gasped and looked at him. "You're not Jack!" She backed away from him in terror, hit her bedroom door. "Oh, my God! What have you done with him? Where's Jack?"


	3. Chapter 2

Holly clamped a hand over her mouth. "Oh, my God..."

Sam grinned in delight and turned to look at the hologram behind him. "Al, she can see me."

Al tapped his hand-link, desperate for answers. "No, she can't see you. She's a nut-case! Ziggy says there's a seventy-three percent probability that she's having some sort of...hallucination."

"No, no. She can _see_ me," Sam insisted. He started to raise his hands to touch her again.

"Oh, my God," Holly said. "No, stay away from me! Oh, God, I really am going insane! Jack, I'm sorry. Please, get out of here!"

Al couldn't have said it better. "That sounds like good advice, Sam."

Holly turned away from him. "Please, Jack, don't touch me again. Just...go. Please."

Al wished he could touch Sam. Then he'd grab him by the arm and drag him out. "Come on, Sam. See? She doesn't even want you here."

Sam hesitated, then turned and went down the stairs.

Once he was outside, Al appeared beside him, much relieved. Al's official job title was 'observer.' In the imaging chamber, that was all Al could do. Observe. Sam knew it was one of Al's biggest fears that on one of Sam's leaps, he would have to observe Sam get killed. It was also one of Al's fears that he _wouldn't_ be there when Sam needed him most. The two were good friends, even if they hadn't actually been in the same place or in the same time for some years now. "I thought you'd never get the hell out," Al said. "That fatso psycho gives me the creeps."

"She's not a psychopath, Al."

"And I'm not a hologram."

"Well, in a sense, you're not. You're only a hologram to me. Back in the future, _I'm_ the hologram."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Look, Sam, Ziggy has figured out what you're here to do. Ziggy says, the way to stop you from being killed is to get her committed to a mental institution before she kills you."

"I don't think she's crazy."

"Then how do you explain what happened back there?"

Sam had no idea where he was supposed to live, but he figured the restaurant was a good place to start. "Somehow, she could tell that I wasn't Jack North."

"How?"

"I don't know. But what would be your natural reaction if you just found out that somebody you knew wasn't who you thought he was?"

"Well, I'd, uh...uh..."

"You'd be scared to death, just like she was. Al, she saw me."

"All right, what if she did? We've already determined that little kids can see us, dogs can see us, and mental cases can see us. Guess which category she falls into."

"But she didn't see _us_, she saw _me_. And it wasn't right away, either. Something must've triggered it."

"What triggered it was that psychopathic part of her mind that wants to kill you."

"No, it was something else."

"Look, Sam, now that you're safe for the time being, I could do with a good night's sleep."

"Yeah, me, too. The trouble is, I don't know where I live."

"Oh." He tapped the hand-link. "Uh, 408 Chestnut Road."

"Maybe I should take my car. Which one is it?"

"Well, you _could_ take your car, but it's right here on the corner."

Sam looked up at the signpost. He was at the intersection of the 400 block of Chestnut Road and the 200 block of Main Street. "Oh."

"Good night, Sam. I'll have Ziggy keep a lock on our psycho. If she comes anywhere near you, I'll let you know."

"She's not a psycho."

"Yeah, yeah. Just the same, I'd feel better if we kept track of her."

"Good night, Al."

"Good night, Sam. Oh, and don't take any showers 'til I get back."

"Will you stop it?"

Al sighed. "Just be careful." He opened the imaging chamber door.

"I will. Oh, and Al---"

Al turned to look.

"Thanks."

Al left, and Sam was all alone inside Jack North's body. He had twenty-four hours to figure this out and leap, because if he didn't, it wasn't Jack North who would be killed, it was Sam Beckett.

Sam found the house where Jack North lived. On the outside, it was similar in size and style to the house Holly Woods lived in. Sam pulled the keys out of his pocket, tried them until he found the one that fit, then opened the door.

He had just entered the house when a huge dog came padding around an interior corner, saw him, and started barking like a maniac. Sam barely had time to get back outside before the imaging chamber door opened again, and Al the hologram stepped back into Sam's life.

"Oh, Sam, be careful. According to Ziggy, Jack North has a dog license for a dog named 'Rufus.'"

"I just met 'Rufus,'" Sam told him.

"Oh." Al shrugged. "Well, you should be okay, then." He started to leave the imaging chamber again.

"Al!" Sam said.

"What?"

"Help me out here a little, will you? Distract Rufus so I can get in the house!"

"Oh, yeah, sure." Al popped out of sight, and a second later, Sam heard barking coming from inside the house. The barking moved to a different room, and Sam quietly re-inserted the key into the lock and entered the house. He followed the sound of the barking to Jack North's bedroom, to which, thankfully, he had left the door open. While Al waved his holographic arms in front of the dog and yelled "Here, Rufus!" Sam gave Al a wave goodnight and shut the door. A second later, Sam heard the imaging chamber door open, and a very confused dog whine about the sudden disappearance of the intruder he'd been unable to touch.

"'Night, Al. 'Night, Rufus," Sam murmured. Sam did a quick search of the house. There was no other bedroom besides the one Rufus was in, only a sofa that was really more of a loveseat, not nearly long enough to accommodate a full-sized man. Sam sighed and took off his shoes and made himself as comfortable as he could for the night.

Sam slept fitfully. As he did, a memory worked its way back into his Swiss-cheesed brain. He was with a woman, someone he loved, someone...very special. He had leapt into a TV news reporter named Ross, but the woman saw Sam for who he really was. And...she loved him right back. She knew he wouldn't be able to stay, and...she loved him anyway. He would only be there two weeks, just two short weeks, and then she would be dead, unless he could save her. He _did_ save her, and then he had leapt, never to see her again. He never knew what had become of her after that. Was she happy? Had she found someone else? Had it been worth it?

As Sam showered, he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye, on the other side of the shower curtain. He looked around for any sort of weapon he could use, but all he could come up with was a bottle of shampoo. He grabbed it by the neck and swept the curtain aside to see Al standing there, puffing complacently at his cigar. "Al!" Sam complained. "Don't sneak up on me like that!

Al eyed the shampoo. "Oh, that's good, Sam. What are you going to do, lather me to death? Or beat me over the head with a plastic bottle?"

"What about squirting it in your eyes to blind you?"

"I think you'd have to take the cap off first. And since I'm only a hologram to you, it wouldn't work, anyway. And what did I tell you about taking a shower, huh?"

Sam sighed as he stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around himself. "Did you find out anything new about Holly?"

"No. You still get murdered tonight. Oh, and Ziggy had a slight glitch last night."

Sam was concerned. "What sort of glitch?"

"Nothing much. He just lost the lock on Holly for about a second. Gooshie's looking into it. He thinks it was due to a slight power fluctuation or something. Nothing to get excited about."

"Let me know if there are any more glitches. Where's Holly now?"

"On her way to the library where she works."

"Good. I want to take a look at the inside of her house."

"I already did. There's nothing to see."

"No, something's nagging at me. I think my sub-conscious registered something that my conscious mind didn't."

"Suit yourself. But I thought you were the one who didn't believe she was a psycho."

"I still don't."

"Now _that_ is exactly the kind of thinking that probably got Jack North killed in the first place."

Inside the Lakewood library, Holly came into work, took off her sweater, and went to the librarian's desk. By the hands of the clock on the wall behind the counter, it was 9:05 when Holly passed through the swinging gate. The other librarian was already at work.

"Morning, Holly." said the other woman.

"Morning, Rose. Sorry I'm late," Holly replied distractedly.

"It's the only time you've been late since you started working here. I think we can excuse you."

Holly started to busy herself with library chores.

"Hey!" Rose complained. "Hey, are you all right?"

Keeping busy, Holly replied, "I'm fine."

"Hey, Holly..."

Holly turned to look at her, and Rose saw the circles under her eyes.

"Good Lord, Holly. You look like you haven't slept in a week."

"I'm fine, really."

"Hey, it's me, Rose, remember? Now what happened?"

Holly relented. "Well...Jack proposed last night, and---"

"Hey, no kidding! He did?" she checked Holly's hand. "Wait a minute, where's the ring? You didn't turn him down, did you? Are you crazy?"

"I don't know, Rose. I may be."

"He's all I've heard you talk about since you started going out with him, Jack-this, and Jack-that. "

"I don't want to talk about it any more."

"Come on, Holly. What, is there some deep, dark secret that he doesn't know about? What is it?"

"I don't want to talk about it!" She hesitated, then turned back to her friend. "Look, I'm sorry. I just...need to take my mind off it, okay?"

"You really look beat. Why don't you take the day off, get some rest."

"No, I'd rather...just keep busy. If that pile of books is logged in, I'll put them back on the shelves for you."

"Uh...sure. Whatever you want."

Holly took the book-cart and wheeled it over to the shelves. She put one away, then saw a book with the title _Abnormal Psychology_ and picked it up. As she touched the book, she saw the face of a young man with a beard and glasses. Dark brown eyes, reading, studying...

Holly seemed to be in a trance as Rose walked up to her.

"Holly...are you sure you're all right?"

Holly blinked and nodded. "Fine. I'm fine. Listen...I think I will take the day off, after all. I must be more tired than I thought."

"Sure, Holly. Just let me know if there's anything I can do."

"Thanks, Rose, there isn't. Except...I think I'll sign this book out, if you don't mind."

Sam and Al walk up the front walk approaching the house. "No, I don't have an explanation for it," Sam said. "But that doesn't mean there isn't one. But I think I know why she saw me."

Al checked his hand-link. "Uh, oh."

"Uh, oh, what?"

"Uh...Ziggy just lost the lock on Holly again. But he says there's an eighty-seven percent chance she won't come home from the library until at least lunchtime."

"Tell Gooshie to find out what's wrong with Ziggy, will you?"

"He's working on it."

Sam looked at the house. "All right, how do I get in?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know?"

Al waved his cigar. "I mean, I don't know. She locked the door and took the key with her."

"Great. Look around and see if you can find an open window or something."

Al disappeared. Sam waited. He didn't want any of the neighbors to see him trying to break into the house, unless absolutely necessary.

Al popped back beside him. "Sam, I think you better get out of here."

"Why, what's wrong?"

Holly was walking up the front walk. Al pointed at her. "That's what's wrong."

Sam turned to look. There was no way of leaving without her seeing, so he waited.

"Jack? Jack, what are you doing?"

"Uh...hi. Just, uh, checking to see if you were home."

Al looked at Ziggy's read-out. "No change in the timeline yet. I guess you're safe for the moment, but I wouldn't push it if I were you."

"Why?" Holly asked.

"Because, uh, because we need to talk. I'm not going to give up on us without a on in, I guess."

Once inside, she set the book down. "I'm surprised to see you."

Al's hand-link _bleeped_. "Hey, we got the lock back!"

"Why?" Sam wanted to know.

"I don't know why," Al said.

"I mean, after what happened last night," Holly said.

Sam cleared his throat. "Well, see, that's why I wanted to talk. Why...were you institutionalized?"

Holly ran her hand along the spinning wheel.

Al's hand-link _bleeped_. "Lost it again. Damn!"

Holly gave a sad smile. "I used to see things. I still do, actually, but Doc Leach says I just have an active imagination. I wanted to believe him. I did believe him, until last night."

She moved her hand away from the antique.

Al's hand-link _bleeped_ again, and he nodded. "Okay, I've got the lock back."

Sam ignored Al. "What kinds of things did you see?"

"Faces. Feelings. People that didn't exist. It drove me crazy. I mean...it would've, if I hadn't already been...you know. "

"And...what did you see last night?"

Holly shook her head. "Oh, last night was really weird. It was like...you weren't really you. I called Dr. Leach this morning and made an appointment to see him the day after tomorrow. He's got patients all day today, and tomorrow's his day off, so that's the earliest I can get in to see him."

Al jumped in. "Great, Sam! Here's your chance! You call this Dr. Leach and tell him it's an emergency, and get her an appointment for today, and---"

Holly went over to Sam and hesitantly raised her hand to his cheek. "Jack, I'm---"she touched him, and shuddered slightly, but didn't break the contact.

_Bleep!_ Al pounded his hand-link. "There goes the lock again!"

"I'm sorry," Holly said. "You and me...it isn't going to work out." She broke the contact and walked away.

Al yelled into nothingness. "Gooshie! What the hell is going on? On again, off again, on again! See if you can keep it this time, will you?"

Holly swallowed and moved away from Sam. "It's like...you're not the person I fell in love with. I mean, you are, but that's not the way it feels like to me."

Sam took a step toward her. "Holly---"

She looked up to the ceiling. "And I don't know how to explain that, except that I really am losing my mind."

Sam closed the distance and put a hand on her shoulder. She turned her head to look at him.

Al shook the hand-link. "And there it goes again."

Sam looked at Al, looked at his hand, then took his hand away from Holly's shoulder.

"Now it's back," Al said.

Holly shook his head, "I really do love you, Jack, but suddenly, you just don't feel the same."

Sam grinned at Al and touched Holly's shoulder again.

Al was finally beginning to catch on. He looked at the hand-link. "Now it's gone again." Sam took his hand away, and Al confirmed, "Now it's back again. Sam, this is really weird. Every time you two touch, we lose the lock. But those aren't the only times..."

Holly was continuing with her explanation. "So I think it would be for the best if we...didn't see each other any more."

"Holly," Sam said, "I want to ask you for a favor. This is going to sound weird, but would you...touch that spinning wheel over there?"

Holly looked at him. "Haven't you been listening to what I've been saying?"

"Yes, I have, but if you would just...touch that spinning wheel, I think I can prove that you're not going crazy."

Holly's expression told plainly which person she was beginning to think was the 'crazy' one, but she extended her hand and touched the spinning wheel.

Al's hand-link _bleeped!_ and he checked it. "You're right, Sam. Ziggy lost the lock again." Holly took her hand away from the spinning wheel, and Al added, "and now it's back."

Sam grinned, and looked at him. "She's not a psycho."

"What?" Holly said, confused.

Sam turned to her, still grinning. "You're not a psycho. You're a _psychic_! A psychometrist, to be exact."

"Psycho, psychometrist, what's the difference?" Al asked. "She's still going to kill you. Tonight."

Sam waved a hand at the spinning wheel. "Why did you buy the spinning wheel, Holly?"

Holly was still confused. "I...don't know. It just felt nice to me. Comfortable. Comforting."

Sam's grin grew wider. "That's because whoever owned the spinning wheel before was a comfortable, comforting person."

Holly wasn't buying it. Neither was Al. "Psychic, shmykick," he said. "Maybe the little voices are the ones that tell her to kill you. You haven't changed history, Sam."

"That doesn't explain the weird image I saw when I touched you last night, and again today," Holly said.

"Actually, it does," Sam said.

"Oh, no, Sam!" Al interjected. "You're not going to _tell_ her, are you?"

Sam glanced at him and went on. "Can you describe what you saw when you touched me?"

Holly met his eyes. "I can do better than that," she said. "I can show you."

"_Show_ me?"

She left the living room and went upstairs to her bedroom. Al shrugged. A few seconds later, she returned, holding a painting canvas covered with a cloth. Sam looked at Al. "Don't look at me," Al said. "You're the genius, and it wasn't your idea to have me look around until this morning. I don't have x-ray vision, you know."

Holly propped the painting up on the back of the couch and took off the sheet. Sam smiled, because he'd been expecting something like this. Al stared. The picture was a sketch not yet painted in. It was a portrait, of two faces, back to back, coming from the same head. One was the face of Jack North. The other... "Sam, it's _you_!" Al said. Sam nodded. Also featured prominently in the picture was part of a sandcastle with a bucket and part of a play shovel. "I don't understand the rest of this, though. What's she–––"

"That's what I saw when I touched you," Holly said. "Not exactly, that, but something like it..." She shook her head. "I _saw_ it, Jack. I didn't imagine it. When I touched you, I saw that other face instead of yours. So that's what going crazy feels like."

"You're not going crazy, Holly," Sam told her. "That face you painted, that's who I _am_."

"No, Sam," Al warned. "Don't do it."

Sam did it. He told Holly the truth. "Right now, that's who I am. I know it's kind of hard to believe, but it's true. And someday, soon, I'll be gone, and the Jack you love will be back. But for right now, that's _me_. Here, take my hand. See for yourself. There's nothing to be afraid of. I'm not here to hurt you, I'm here to help you. Just...take my hand, and believe what you see."

Holly looked at him like he was out of his mind.

"Holly, please, just... forget what you see with your eyes right now. Close your eyes, and believe what your feelings tell you. Just...close your eyes for a minute."

Finally, Holly closed her eyes, and Sam took her right hand in his right hand, and moved behind Holly to put his other hand on her shoulder and whisper in her ear. "What do you see?"

Holly drew in a deep, shaky breath. "You're...possessing Jack's body."

Sam nodded. "Yes. But I'm not a demon, or anything like that. It's more like...an out of body experience. I'm in his body, and he's in mine right now. I'm just a man, the man you drew in your picture. My name's Sam Beckett. Not Sand Bucket---"

Al finally got the connection. "Sand Bucket! Oh!"

"And when I finish doing what I have to do, I'll leave, and Jack will come back."

"So what are you here to do?" Holly asked.

"I'm here to help you. I'm here to tell you that you're not going crazy. What's happening to you is all absolutely real, nothing crazy about it."

"This whole conversation is sounding pretty crazy..."

"Listen with your heart, Holly, not your ears. Doesn't your heart tell you that I'm speaking the truth?"

Holly nodded. "Okay," she said. "Maybe..."

Al checked his hand-link. "This doesn't change anything, Sam. You still get killed tonight. And she's still the one who does it."

"Holly, I want you to take the rest of the day off, go back to the library, check out every book you can find on ESP, psychic perception, and especially anything having to do with psychometry. And then read them"

She opened her eyes and looked at him. "That's why you're here, to tell me that I'm psychic?"

"I think that's partly why I'm here. I think I'm also here to make sure you and Jack get married."

Al added, "And to keep psycho-psychic here from murdering you---Jack---you. Which she still does. Tonight."

Sam stared at Al. To Holly, he looked like he was staring into space. Then Sam shifted his gaze, and he _was_ staring into space. There was something that happened, happened last night just after he'd proposed... Suddenly, he turned to Holly. "Jack and I switched places right before he was about to propose. And at first...I got the feeling that you were going to say 'yes.' Were you?"

"I was, but then...suddenly, everything felt all _wrong_."

That made no sense, because if Jack was doing just fine on his own until Sam leapt in, Sam would never have leapt in. "Because we'd switched places?" Sam asked.

"I don't know. I mean...it felt _horrible_, not just weird, like when you touched me..."

"Were you holding something or touching something when---"

Suddenly, Sam broke off, realizing _exactly_ what had triggered the horrible feeling Holly had experienced. Al and Holly realized it, too, and all three shouted at the same time, "The ring!"

"The ring is cursed!" said Al. "When she puts it on, it makes her kill people!"

"A ring can't make a person kill someone," Sam said. "That's ridiculous!"

"What?" Holly said, confused.

"But the ring _is_ the key," Sam said. He turned to Al. "You said Jack's brother ran a second-hand jewelry store. How much you want to bet that's where Jack got the ring?"

"Who are you talking to?" Holly wanted to know.

"Uh...my spirit guide. Sort of. Listen, I want to try something, okay. I want to run back to Jack's apartment and get the ring."

"I'll come with you," Holly said.

"Maybe you better not. There's this big dog, and he's---"

"_Rufus_?" Holly said. "Rufus is a sweet-heart. Once he gets to know you, he'll just quietly lick you to death."

Rufus... "Al, what happened to Rufus?" Sam asked.

Al checked the hand-link. "Rufus was killed, too. Jack North's dog was found dead in the living room, with his throat slit."

"That's why Rufus couldn't alert Jack to the fact that there was an intruder in the house. And if the intruder was Holly, Rufus wouldn't have barked, and so there wouldn't have been any need to kill him."

"Good thinking, Sam." Al checked the hand-link. "Oh, something's changed. Now, instead of getting committed to a psychiatric ward, Holly gets arrested for Jack's murder, pleads 'not guilty,' and..." he rolled his head in frustration, "and she gets convicted, anyway. Spends two years in the slammer before she hangs herself. Takes three strong men to cut her hulking body down because she apparently gained even more weight while she was there."

"Intruder? Killing? What are you talking about?" Holly wanted to know.

Sam took her hand. "That's part of the reason I'm here, Holly. Jack gets killed in his house by an intruder tonight."

Al shook his head. "Oh, Sam..."

Holly looked at him. "What?"

"And I'm here to make sure that doesn't happen. I'm here to change Jack's fate."

"Tonight?" Holly asked. "zzzhis house? Why don't you just...stay at my place for a few days? We'll go get Rufus and let the robber take whatever he wants."

Al checked his hand-link. "Now Jack and Holly _both_ get murdered. Right here, in the living room. God..." he looked around and shivered.

Sam looked at him. "So Holly can't be the killer, right?"

Al nodded. "Okay, Sam, you were right. She's not the killer."

Holly was pulling away from Sam. "_I'm_...the one who kills you---Jack?"

Sam took her by the shoulders. "No. No, you're not. But someone will. And we have to stop it before it happens. Okay?"

"God, this is unreal..." Holly said. "I need to check into a hospital..."

Al checked with Ziggy. "Maybe not a bad idea, Sam. If she's in a hospital, there's no way she could be blamed for Jack's murder."

"But he still gets killed, right?" Sam asked.

Al nodded. "Or you do."

Holly started to cry. "This isn't happening..."

"Holly!" Sam took her by the shoulders. "No one's going to kill Jack. You and I are going to see to that. Just wait here a minute while I try to sort some of this out." He moved away from Holly just far enough to talk to Al under his breath. "Ask Ziggy what happens if we take the ring back."

Al punched some buttons on the hand-link and answered, "There's a sixty-two percent probability that if you get rid of the ring, you'll be safe."

"What are we waiting for?" Sam said. He went back to Holly. "Listen, all we have to do is take the ring back. The ring is the key to all this."

Holly sniffled. "Where did you---I mean, Jack---get it from?"

"Uh...do you know where Hank's jewelry store is?"

Holly nodded. "It's in Indianapolis."

"About a six hour drive from here," Al added.

"All right, let's go...let Rufus out, and feed him, and take the ring back to Hank's."

Al promised to pop back in when Sam got to Indy, and left. At Jack's house, with Holly's help, Sam made easy friends with Rufus, and fed him and took him for a brief walk before setting out with the jewelry box containing the ring. They made another stop at the library, at Sam's insistence, and checked out several books on ESP and psychic phenomena. With Ziggy's help, Sam prioritized the reading list for Holly, and Sam drove Jack's car while Holly sat in the passenger seat and read. Holly was taking the news of her psychometry surprisingly well, maybe because it was so much better than the alternative, and for the time being, she was going along with Sam's explanation of who he was, even to the point where she called him 'Sam.' Sam didn't tell her that Al was a hologram and that only he could see Al, or that he was from the future. Holly had enough to deal with, without that . Once they arrived in Indy, Holly navigated, and they got to Jack's brother's jewelry store without mishap. As they pulled up to the curb, Al materialized outside the store and gave Sam a wave.

North Jewelry turned out to be more of a hole-in-the-wall than an actual store, but Hank was an affable sort and was delighted to see Sam and Holly. The first words out of his mouth were to ask Sam if she'd said 'yes,' and Sam replied that she had given him a very definite 'maybe.' Sam found himself liking Hank instantly, and was pretty sure Hank was trying to run an honest business.

"So are you here for a fitting?"

"Actually," said Sam, "We'd like to look at your other rings."

Hank raised his eyebrows. "I told you before, that one was the best one I've seen in a long while, in terms of weight and clarity of the stone."

"Yeah, but...it just doesn't _feel_ right, you know?"

Hank shook his head, but went to a section of the display case and pulled out a display with engagement rings on it. "You won't find a better one, but you're welcome to look."

Sam put his hands on Holly's shoulders and whispered, "See if you can find one that _feels_ good to you. Like the spinning wheel."

Holly nodded and began touching each ring in turn, row by row. When she got to the end, she shrugged.

"I don't suppose you have any others?" Sam asked.

"Just the one," Hank said. He went to a closet, rummaged in the back, and pulled out a small box. It wasn't a ring box, just a small nondescript flat box. He handed it to Sam, who opened it. There were a few pieces of old jewelry in the box, not just the ring. A locket, a pin, a couple pairs of earrings, an engagement ring, a gold wedding band. Sam fished out the engagement ring and handed it to Holly. The ring was very plain, with a small stone set in a simple gold band. Holly touched the ring, and smiled. She nodded at Sam.

"We'll take that one," Sam told Hank.

Hank sighed and rolled his eyes. "Why didn't you just _say_ you wanted Mom's old ring."

Sam tried to cover up his surprise. "Well, you know, what fun would it be if I just did that?" He handed the box with the first ring that he had tried to give Holly the day before to Hank. "Can we just call it an even exchange?"

"Nope. Mom's ring is free. This one wasn't. You can either take your money back, although I don't have enough in the register right now, or store credit."

"Uh..." Sam looked at Al.

"You did it, Sam," said Al, nodding as he looked at the hand-link. "Jack and Holly don't die any more. They get married and---uh oh."

"What 'uh oh'?" Sam asked.

Al looked up from the hand-link apologetically. "Jack and Holly don't die any more, but Hank...does." Al shrugged. "Hank is the one with the ring now. The curse must be transferred to him."

Sam rubbed his forehead with his palm. This was getting tiresome. To Hank, he said, "You know what, let me keep the ring until I decide what to do."

"Sure," said Hank. "Whatever you want." He handed the ring back to Sam.

"Now it's you and Holly again," said Al, checking the hand-link.

So, maybe the ring _was_ cursed, after all.


	4. Chapter 3

Outside of Hank's store, Sam tried to throw the ring away in a dumpster, but it made no difference in the history according to Ziggy, so he ended up dumpster diving to fish it back out. Finding the ring again in the midst of the rubbish took time, too much precious time when all he had left was hours, but the ring was the key, Sam knew, and if throwing it away didn't save Jack and Holly, then he probably needed it for something else.

He and Holly started the long drive back, Sam smelling like dumpster and brooding over the fate that awaited him. Holly picked up on his mood and asked him what was wrong. Sam couldn't lie to her, but he didn't want to tell her that now _she_ was going to die as well, so he simply told her that the danger wasn't yet passed.

As if talking to himself but addressing Al, he said, "I wonder what would happen if we just went away for a few days..."

Al checked the hand-link. "No change."

Holly, of course, didn't know about Al. "We'd first have to pick up Rufus and some clothes, and–––"she wrinkled her nose, "–––and _you_ need a shower."

Shortly after Sam and Holly left Hank's shop, just before Hank was ready to close for the day, another man walked in. Hank recognized him immediately as the man who had sold him the ring that he had turned around and sold Jack at cost. There was something unpleasant about the man, but Hank was a businessman first, and set aside the uneasy feeling his customer stirred. "Hello again, Mr., uh, Jones, was it? What can I do for you today?"

"I want the ring back," said the unpleasant Mr. Jones.

How coincidental, Hank thought. "I'm sorry, Mr. Jones, but I sold it already."

"I want it back," said Mr. Jones.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Jones, I don't have it any more. I sold it to my brother, who lives in Lakewood. I might be able to get it back, but it would cost more than what I paid you for it, and I can't guarantee that I can get it back."

Mr. Jones stared at Hank for a moment, and the unpleasant feeling Hank had grew stronger. Hank breathed a sigh of relief when Mr. Jones turned on his heel and left the store.

Sam was frustrated. Instead of making things better, he'd just made them worse. Instead of just Jack being killed–––or Sam, as the case now was–––it was Jack _and_ Holly. And Rufus, too. He had no idea how he was supposed to stop their deaths when nothing he tried seemed to work. In all his leaps, there had always been a way to fix things. There had to be a way now.

Somehow, the ring was the key. If he could just figure out what lock the ring was supposed to open, he'd change history and leap.

He told Holly that there was still a danger, and she seemed remarkably calm about it. One thing she did insist on, however, was that they pick up Rufus. Whatever their fate, it would be shared by all three.

Sam pulled up to Jack's house and instructed Holly to wait in the car with the doors locked while he went inside to get Rufus and a change of clothes. He av oided the shower, figuring he could take one at whatever hotel they decided to stay at instead. Then they went to Holly's so that _she_ could grab a change of clothes, and that's when it hit him.

The _ring!_

Holly was getting impressions from the ring! Maybe those impressions were the lock that the ring opened. Instead of running from their fate, maybe they needed to face it head-on, open the door using the ring as their passkey.

It would not be easy, though. The first time Holly had touched the ring, even for just an instant, she had dropped it in sheer terror. If Sam were superstitious, he would agree with Al that the ring was cursed. But Sam suspected that the ring had been worn either by someone who had done something horrible, or who had experienced something horrible, and somehow, some of the energy from that time had transferred to the ring, and Holly was psychometrically picking that up.

He waited until she finished packing and started down the stairway. He went up the stairs and took her bag from her to carry it down. "Holly," he said, "I think I know how to avert the danger."

"How?" she asked, rubbing Rufus' head and getting a slobbered hand in return.

"I think...if you hold the ring, you can pick up information that will help us."

She looked at him and shook her head.

"Please, Holly, you have to try."

"I'll...go crazy again."

"You're not going crazy. What you have...is a gift. If you don't use it, there's a very good chance that you'll lose Jack. I'll be right here with you, I promise."

"I don't know what to do."

"All you have to do," Sam told her, guiding her to the couch, "is hold the ring, and tell me what you see or feel."

Al popped in and looked at Sam incredulously. "Sam, what are you doing? You've only got fifteen minutes. You have to get the Hell out of here!"

Sam ignored him. He sat beside Holly and held both her hands in one of his as he reached into the pocket of his trousers for the ring box with the other hand. He put the box into her hands and asked, "What do you feel?"

"Home," she said, almost crying. "I want to go home. It's so sad..."

Sam realized that she was picking up impressions from _him_ rather than the ring, and he took his hands away from hers. "Take the ring out of the box, Holly, and tell me what you feel."

Almost hypnotically, Holly opened the box and started to take out the ring. As her fingers pinched the stone, however, she gave a cry and dropped the box, ring and all. "No!" she screamed.

Sam retrieved the box. "What is it?"

"It was...something horrible, evil...I don't know..."

"Try again," Sam urged. He gave her the box again. "It's just a ring. It can't hurt you. But it can tell you what happened."

She took a shaky breath and pinched the stone with two fingers. Her breathing quickened. "Blood," she said. "Blood everywhere. Blood on the ring." She let go of the stone. "I can't..."

"Yes, you can," Sam said encouragingly. "Try again."

"God, I hope you're right about this," Al said, checking the hand-link. "According to the coroner's report, you've got about ten minutes left."

Holly pinched the ring one more time, and her face twisted into a grimace. "He's angry. So angry. He's killing her. He wants the ring back. He's...he's cutting off her finger..."

"Who is he, Holly?" Sam asked.

"Jones...Jonas. His name is Jonas."

"Jonas. What's his last name?"

"I'm not...Oh, God, there's so much blood..."

"I need a last name, Holly. What's his last name?"

"Jonas...Smith. Jonas Smith."

Al punched in information and checked his hand-link. "Jonas Smith of Red Rock, Illinois, was wanted for questioning in the murder of his girlfriend, one Alicia Wilkins, who was killed in her apartment on Valentine's Day, about three months ago, your time. She was...God, she was stabbed fifty-eight times, and the fourth finger of her left hand was cut off. He disappeared and was never seen again."

"What does he look like, Holly?"

"He's..." She dropped the ring and opened her eyes. "Get me a piece of paper," she said. "And a pencil."

Outside Jack's house, Jonas Smith–––aka, "Mr. Jones"–––was staring at the door. He had found the address in the phone book, but no one was home. Jack's next door neighbor saw him as he left the house to the right of Jack's to walk his dog. There was no thought that the visitor might be sinister. This was Lakewood, after all. "Hey, if you're looking for Jack," the neighbor said by way of greeting, "I saw him headed over toward his girlfriend's." Jonas Smith looked at the neighbor, and followed the neighbor's nod with eyes. Saying nothing, he turned and headed for Holly's house.

"Huh," said the neighbor to his dog. "Not even a 'thank you.' What _is_ this world coming to?"

While Holly was drawing a picture of the man whose image she saw by touching the ring, Al was popping in and out, here and there, keeping guard over Sam and Holly. He popped outside and saw the man approaching Holly's house from the direction of Jack's house. He popped back to Holly's living room.

"Hey, Sam, there's somebody coming," he warned. He looked over Sam's shoulder at the picture Holly was drawing and his eyes got big. "That's _him_! That's the guy who's on his way over here!"

Sam glanced at him, then grabbed Holly's arm so quickly that she dropped her drawing pencil. "We have to go now," he told her, pulling her to her feet.

"Go where?" Holly asked, suddenly afraid.

"Not outside," Al shouted, waving his arms. "The only way out is past the guy who's trying to kill you."

"Upstairs," Sam said, trying to pull her with him. Holly moved as fast as she could, but still not all that quickly, for all that. Rufus sensed somebody approaching the door and began to growl.

"We can't leave Rufus," Holly declared, starting to turn back around.

Sam jerked her back towards the top. "Here, Rufus," he said, and Rufus abandoned the door to bound up beside them.

"The bedroom!" Al declared. "According to the police report, he doesn't get either of you in the bedroom, but downstairs in the living room."

"Stay in the bedroom," Sam told her, opening the door to let Holly and the dog inside. "Keep Rufus quiet. Lock the door." He shut the door and turned to Al. "I need a weapon."

"Knives in the kitchen. The only other possible weapons I see are all these knickknacks," Al replied.

Sam hurried down the stairs and into the kitchen. He found a butcher knife just as Jonas Smith forced Holly's flimsy front door lock open, and Sam froze as still as death. Al spoke into his hand-link to be centered on the intruder. "He's armed, Sam. He's got a switch-blade, and it looks really sharp!"

Sam waited. With a hologram on his side, he would know Jonas Smith's every move, and Sam wanted the additional advantage of surprise. Hopefully, Smith would check out the entire first floor before going upstairs, and when he rounded the corner into the kitchen, Sam had a power-kick waiting for him.

Just then there was a _scratch _and_ thump!_ from upstairs as Rufus clawed impatiently at the door and Holly tried to hold him back.

"He's headed upstairs, Sam!" Al called.

So much for the element of surprise. Sam bolted around the corner and up the stairs. Jonas Smith turned at the top of the stairs. On the higher ground, Smith had the advantage, and Sam's power-kick was impossible. Smith could kick, though, and Sam's butcher knife went flying out of his hand and clattered to the floor below.

"Watch out, Sam!" Al called.

Smith sliced with his knife towards Sam, and Sam sucked in his stomach. Smith followed the slice with another kick, and Sam lost his footing and tried to grab the hand-rail for support. Sam had no weapon whatsoever now, except for words, and he used them. "I know who you are, Jonas Smith!" he yelled. "You killed Alicia Wilkins on Valentine's Day!"

Smith was stunned into immobility, but only momentarily, just long enough for Sam to regain his feet. "I don't know how you know that," Smith said, "but those will be your last words." Smith lashed out again with his foot. Sam tried to catch the foot, but Smith anticipated him and slashed with the switchblade. Sam backed off just in time.

Al was frantic. Sam was in trouble, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do to help him. Then he turned around and saw the bedroom door opening a crack, and he had an idea. "Rufus!" he yelled. "Sic 'im, Rufus! Sic the bad guy!" He pointed to Smith. Rufus seemed confused. Al thought fast. If Rufus wanted to sic Al instead of the bad guy, that was fine, too. Al moved so that he was superimposed over Smith. "Come on, Rufus! Here, Rufus! Sic! Sic! Sic!"

Rufus broke free of Holly's grasp and bounded down the stairs. He collided into Smith, who had been unprepared for an attack from the rear, and fell forward. Sam helped Smith's fall by using his legs to trap Smith's weighted leg, and then twisting to throw him off balance. As Smith fell down the stairs past him, _Sam_ now had the advantage of the higher ground. Sam pulled himself up with the guard rail and lashed out with his foot, and Smith collapsed at the bottom of the stairs, unconscious. Sam kicked the switchblade away, and stood ready to deliver another kick, but there was no need.

"Get some rope!" he yelled to Holly, who had . She disappeared into the bedroom and returned with some mailing twine. Sam bound the unconscious man's hands behind him, then his feet, then his legs, cutting the twine with the butcher knife. He didn't want to lose Smith's fingerprints on the switchblade. Then he put the butcher knife back in the kitchen and told Holly to call the police. Finally, he breathed a sigh of relief and turned to Al. "Is it over?"

Al looked at the read-out from the hand-link. "Yup. You did it, Sam. You saved Jack and Holly. They get married and have two kids, neither of whom shows any signs of psychometry. And Ziggy says that there's a seventy-eight percent chance that if all this hadn't happened right here in Holly's living room, that she wouldn't have believed what you told her about her gift. But now, Holly ends up using her gift to help the police solve a number of crimes, and---oh my God." His expression turned to amazement.

"What is it, Al?"

Al waved his cigar. "Her gift ends up saving the ten year old daughter of general Tom Wray, who was kidnapped in 1989 by a serial---never mind."

"Tom Wray...that name seems familiar."

"No wonder your brain is so swiss-cheesed, the way you keep changing history. I'm feeling a little muenstered, myself. General Wray is one of the Pentagon's main supporters of Project Quantum Leap. It seems that after Holly found his daughter, General Wray went to her home to thank her and saw the painting, the one she made of you. And she told him the story of how a disembodied psychic traveler named Sam Beckett helped her realize her gifts. And when Project Quantum Leap came up for funding, and he met you, Sam, he recognized your face from the painting and your name from Holly's story of how she discovered her gifts, and...and he's---" Al had to hit the hand-link to get Ziggy to finish the read-out. "He's in the control room right now, with Gooshie, and he's been there throughout this whole leap, monitoring it. Sam! You not only saved Holly and Jack, you also saved the General's daughter, _and_ Project Quantum Leap! And...it's going to take some time, Sam, but the General's promised to get us the additional funding Dr. Fuller needs to upgrade Ziggy and install the retrieval program that will bring you home."

"Dr. Fuller..." Sam said the name slowly, Then a hole in his memory began to fill up, and he remembered her full name. "Dr...Sa...mantha Jo Fuller..."

"Sammy Jo Fuller. You remember her?"

"Sammy Jo..." Suddenly, the cheese was back, and the gap was filled. Changing time-streams usually took precious memories away, but every now and then, it brought one back. "Sammy Jo! My d–––"

Al nodded. "Your daughter, Sam." The daughter he had fathered on one of his leaps. Al wondered if Sam also remembered his wife, Donna, who married Sam only because of how her history had changed in one of his leaps.

Sam's heart welled. He was going to go home. Not today, not tomorrow, but someday, one of his leaps would bring him back home. Someday. There was hope.

He looked at Holly, the woman who had given him that hope. He was going to leap again, any second, but there was one thing he wanted to do before he left. "Holly, do you think Jack would mind if I kissed you?"

Holly looked at him and smiled. "I don't know about Jack," she replied, "but _I_ would mind if you _didn't_."

Al looked away from the mushy stuff, at the hand-link for lack of anything better. Sometimes he envied Sam and the way he got to kiss all the women while conveniently being able to forget the fact that he was married. Hell, if he _didn't_ kiss the women now and then, he couldn't leap. But this was not one of those times when Al envied Sam. Some men _liked_ large women, but not Al. He liked skinny women. Skinny women with large kahoonas. Like Beth's.

Then new information appeared on the hand-link, causing Al's eyebrows to raise. "Hey, Sam, get this. Before Jack and Holly get married, she goes on a diet and loses, like, a hundred pounds. It seems her eating problem was related to the emotional stress of getting all these psychic impressions without knowing where they came from. And in two years, she quits her job at the library and becomes a model–––well, not a _super_ model, but a _model_–––and...Wow. She's really beautiful, Sam. Wow!"

Sam and Holly's kiss evolved to an embrace. Sam ignored Al's prattle. Sam didn't need the hand-link to see how beautiful Holly was.

Al was looking back and forth between the image on the hand-link and the woman whose life Sam had touched when the hologram of Holly's living room dissolved away to the bare blue walls of the imaging chamber, indicating that Sam had leapt.


End file.
